The Potion: A genetic engineering thriller!

Chapter 7

It had been a few days since his date with Melanie, and James couldn’t stop thinking about what happened.

He felt like such a fool for telling her about the serum. He’d promised Ronald that he would keep his secret, and now he’d gone and blurted it out to some girl he’d only met twice? What made it worse was her reaction to the news. Clearly, she was not overly thrilled with the fact that they had decided to keep The Potion to themselves. It wasn’t like they planned to do it forever. Who knew, perhaps a few months down the line, Ronald would go public with his findings. They just needed more time—and maybe even another test subject to compare with. But James couldn’t make that decision for him. It was Ronald’s research, Ronald’s formula, and ultimately Ronald’s choice. He had just signed a waiver stating he knew the risks of subjecting himself to an untested serum, and that he was going to keep it strictly confidential.

Apparently, all it took was a beautiful blonde to ruin that promise.

Clocking in for his morning shift at Kevin’s Auto Repairs, James took out his shirt uniform from his locker and took his time buttoning it up. He wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there in a daze until someone cleared their throat behind him. When he turned around to see who it was, Brad stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Have you joined us in the present?” Brad questioned.

“Sorry,” James muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, that much is obvious. Anything I can help with?”

James didn’t have the time nor the ability to explain what a mess his life had become in the last few months. Besides, he wasn’t even sure Brad had the brain capacity to absorb such complexities. And he’d already messed up by telling Melanie the truth, he wasn’t about to go and spill the beans to someone else.

“Girl troubles,” James shrugged. “I thought it’d be easier since I’ve been married once before, but it seems I was wrong about that.”

“Ahhh, I see.” Brad nodded and flashed him a sympathetic grin. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. Cheer up, bud. I’m sure whatever’s happened between you and your new lady will work itself out.”

I hope so.

“Thanks. Anything scheduled for me this morning?” James asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Brad reached into his shirt pocket and unfolded a few papers he’d tucked in there. “Exhaust repair. The car should be here in the next ten minutes or so.”

“Great, I’ll go get ready then,” James said.

Stepping around Brad’s large frame, he walked out onto the shop floor and toward his bay door. Exhaust repairs were easy, so he was grateful to start his day with that. He’d be able to have them in and out in less than half an hour. He grabbed all 55 the necessary tools—a new flex pipe which he was going to use to replace the part with the hole, his welder and mask, and his Sawzall with a blade strong enough to cut through the metal.

By the time he’d gathered everything on his tool cart, the customer had pulled up in front of the shop. He waved them in, and once the car was in the right place and up on the hoist, he guided them toward the seating area in the front office so he could get to work with little distraction.

He plugged the Sawzall into his extension cord and got to work. It wasn’t hard finding the problem area. Fortunately, it was small enough that his replacement would be a perfect fit. Just as he was about to finish his cut, a loud boom from across the shop startled James. His grip on the saw slipped, and in one swift motion, it came down and grazed his forearm.

Howling in pain, he covered the wound with his other hand, unsure of how much damage he actually caused. The shop halted at the commotion, and with a flick of the switch, the generator shut down, leaving the shop in an anxious silence.

“What’s going on?” Brad demanded. When Kevin was holed up in his office, Brad was the floor manager.

“I—I was just filling up these tires and I think I put too much so it popped and—”

“James, you alright?” Brad cut the young apprentice off after noticing he was covering his arm with his hand.

He could feel his skin was wet beneath his palm, and he knew in his gut it wasn’t sweat. “What the hell was that?” he barked. “You scared the crap outta me! My saw slipped. Don’t know how deep I cut it, yet.”

“Geez!” Brad declared, seeing blood ooze between James’s fingers. “First aid kit is in the office. Let’s take a look at that,” Brad instructed. “We’ll have to fill out an accident report, ya know.” he added glibly. Gee Brad, I’ll be okay. Thanks for asking.

James did as he was told with Brad following not far behind. When the two men entered the room, Kevin was already standing, anticipating something had gone wrong.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I cut myself with a blade,” James explained once more. “I’m not sure how bad though.”

“Alright, let’s have a look,” his boss said, retrieving the first aid hit from a shelf.

Kevin guided him towards the chairs on the other side of his desk before gently removing James’s hand. The three of them all sighed with relief. It wasn’t as bad as they thought. A mere flesh wound, one that would need a little bit of a patch up, but nothing so bad that required hospitalization. However, James knew it would likely leave a sizable scar on his arm. After getting it wrapped up and filling out an accident report, a crazy idea popped into his head. He just hoped that Ronald would be up for it.

“You want me to what?” Ronald gasped before placing both hands on his hips.

James had gone over to his place after work, claiming it was a matter of emergency. He probably should’ve worded his voicemail a bit better, seeing as Ronald had been under the 57 impression that it was a life-or-death situation. Not a mere flesh wound.

“Administer a second dose of The Potion,” James confirmed.

It had been such a raging success the first time around, they had no reason to believe it wouldn’t be the second time. His cells had regenerated just as Richard predicted, and then some. He had shed years of wrinkles and aging off his life, he was practically a decade younger than he was months prior. He had regrown his appendix! Scars from a lifetime of tripping over his feet and fixing cars were erased, and now, he wanted the ugly one on his arm gone, too.

“I’m not some plastic surgeon,” he scoffed. Throwing his arms up in the air in protest, he began fiddling around with vials and beakers in the lab to take his mind off of James’s preposterous request. “I didn’t design it to make you more appealing, I designed it to—”

“I know, help the people. Well, I’m a person and I want your help. This would be excellent for your research. You’ll be able to compare notes from the first dose to this one. Please, Ronald, all I’m asking is for you to try.”

“I’ve never done the calculations for what could happen if a person received two doses,” Ronald admitted.

Flopping down in his stool, he slouched over the metal desk and used his hand to hold up his head. For the first time since James had gotten to know the old man, he realized he was unsure of his own work. Perhaps it was because he never thought he’d get the opportunity to test it out once, let alone a second time on the same patient.

James had to confess to himself this made him a little nervous, but he wasn’t going to back out now that he asked. The truth was, he had more to lose than he did the first time around, what with getting to know Melanie, his work performance was improving, and he was overall a happier person. If something were to happen and he died on Ronald’s table, he didn’t want his friend to bear that burden. But this was for science—surely he’d see the reason for his request. Or were his motives a little less altruistic? Was it vanity that drove his request?

“Fine,” the doctor caved. “But I’m not just going to stick it in your arm and see what happens. We’re going to treat this like the first dose.” He clapped his hands together, a ritual he did before each round of testing. “Shirt off, let's check your vitals and take some blood samples before we get started.”

The next hour or so was similar to what had happened that first night where everything changed. They did scans, x-rays, and there were more wires hooked up to him than he could count. Before he knew it, he was back to lying on the uncomfortable plastic staring at the fluorescent lights above him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ronald asked as he prepped the second dose at his desk. He glanced over at James from the top of his glasses. There was something about the look in his eye that made James’s stomach do flips.

“Absolutely.” It was a lie, but he tried his best to exude as much confidence as he could muster. If Ronald picked up on even the slightest hesitation, there was a chance he’d back out.

“Alright. But this time I want to have you here overnight for observation. We’re stepping into dangerous territory now, and I don’t want to take any risks.”

“That’s fine,” James agreed. It was the least he could do. Spending the night in the lab was probably the lowest thing on his list of worries.

“Here goes nothing,” Ronald wheezed.

With a slight pinch in his left bicep, James squeezed his eyes shut until he heard Ronald walk away. He let out a deep breath and slowly opened them once more to see him standing over by the computer, watching the data come in.

“So, what’s the word?” James broke the silence.

“Your blood pressure and heart rate are normal, which is a good sign. Everything looks about the same regarding immediate effects. Nothing out of the ordinary yet. Give it time and we’ll see.”

James hardly remembered drifting off to sleep after that. He had a dreamless night, and it wasn’t until the alarm on his phone went off that he even realized hours had gone by. Jolting awake, he turned it off and grounded himself. He’d expected to wake up nice and cozy in his bed, not freezing cold in a lab that reeked of disinfectant.

Ronald sat on the leather couch, a file folder balancing in his lab. When he heard James shuffling around on the table, he closed it and placed it beside him. “Oh good, you’re awake. I was beginning to think you’d gone into a coma.”

“How long was I out?”

“Pretty much all night.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize, clearly you needed the rest.” Ronald pushed himself off the sofa and stepped in front of James, holding up his still-injured arm. “I’ve been monitoring you for hours and there hasn’t been a single change in your cells. Nothing regenerating or healing itself. Looks like you’re going to have to wear that scar like a badge of honor after all.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“That The Potion only works once.”